


Odi et Amo

by Cesare_Borgia (lizdarcy)



Category: Borgias - Ambiguous Fandom, The Borgias (2011)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:27:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizdarcy/pseuds/Cesare_Borgia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucrezia Borgia could not remember when her brother’s soul had grown so black. Like the color of his robes, he had gone from a royal purple, to a burning crimson, and somehow, right before her eyes, had burnt away to black.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Odi et Amo

Lucrezia Borgia could not remember when her brother’s soul had grown so black. Like the color of his robes, he had gone from a royal purple, to a burning crimson, and somehow, right before her eyes, had burnt away to black. 

When he held her hand, it was no longer gentle, but desperate, as if she could slip out of his fingers at any moment. His kisses weren’t brotherly, or even that of a lover, but harsh and hard and brutal. 

When the Borgias assembled in a room, it was no longer Pope Alexander who held the attention, but Il Valentino.

Lucrezia shivered as she met his eyes in her looking glass. 

“Brother.”

Even in all of his cruelty, his violence, his mercilessness, those black eyes set the blood beneath her skin aflame. 

“Sis.”

How could she love him after his crimes? How could she see beyond the thick coat of red on his hands, knowing that only black would be beneath?

It did not matter. His footsteps echoed, and she counted them, like she once counted her husband’s thrusts, seven…eight…nine…

His hands grabbed her hips from behind, his lips resting on her neck. Gently. But she could feel the blackness beneath. 

“Will you ever forget Alfonso D’Aragona?” 

The words were daggers, meant to make her bleed, and they did… oh, they did. How could she admit he was already gone? From her mind, from her body, from her heart? How could she tell Cesare that he had won her for good, when that meant that her dear sweet Alfonso had had to lose so much.

“You do not ask my forgiveness.” Her hands gripped his on her stomach, her held fell back against his chest.

“Borgias do not forgive.” 

His voice hummed in her ear, low and soft and soothing, like the purr of her panther before it grew into a growl.

“No, no we do not.”

His fingers tightened, and she felt teeth at her neck. Heat blossomed within her, try as she may to fight it, and she squeezed her eyes closed. His lips caught the tear at the corner of her eye. 

_Odi et amo. Quare id faciam?_

Abruptly she turned in his arms, smoothing her hands down his chest, and playing with the laces of his doublet, yet unable to meet his eyes. 

“Lucrezia, my love…” Her name never sounded so sweet on another’s lips, never so seductive. It seemed only his lips knew just how to kiss each sound, how to string them together so that her name became symphony of promise. 

“I’m with child, Cesare.” There were more tears now. A gasp left her throat. “I do not believe it is Alfonso’s.”

His eyes widened, and she could she the black iron in them as they softened, just a little. She let her eyes close again as his thumb swept across her cheek, and pretended that he was clad in purple once more. Sweeter, softer, the prince charming of her childhood, her spring. 

When his lips pressed into hers, she couldn’t help the sob, could not hold back the tempest of feelings in her. She loved him, she loved him so much, and yet he scared her, he hurt her and he possessed her. 

“Shhh… he will be beautiful, our son. A true Borgia.” 

She loved him already, this vile angel inside her. He would have his father’s coloring, dark as the night he had been conceived, black as the robes his father wore. 

Black as the eyes she saw in the looking glass. 

When had they grown so dark?


End file.
